


Violaceous

by reikis



Series: Melody of the Reminiscing Star [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Angst, Depression, Final Fantasy XIV: Shadowbringers Spoilers, Hurt/Comfort, Physical Abuse, Suicide, light sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-09
Updated: 2019-11-09
Packaged: 2021-01-26 08:59:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21371539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reikis/pseuds/reikis
Summary: Excerpts of the observer's life.
Series: Melody of the Reminiscing Star [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1540690
Comments: 3
Kudos: 12





	Violaceous

The two of them typically spent their time apart. With their numbers so low, the Emissary had left Emet-Selch and Lahabrea to tend to matters on the Source. Emet-Selch in particular always seemed interested in mingling with mortals and conquering them.

Elidibus preferred inching the reflections closer to destruction, anyway. And, Emet-Selch and Lahabrea could handle themselves. The two were more than capable.

The Architect especially was, typically, a very composed man. He had found himself that way since the Sundering. He had a strong aetheric presence – a beautiful violet hue to his soul – that was vibrant with life. Even among Amaurotines, he stood above them and even many of the Convocation members. He has had this powerful presence the entire time the Emissary has known him.

That’s why Elidibus was so uncharacteristically confused the day he had met that distinguished color once more.

He felt so strangely...

Dim.

He had not met with Emet-Selch in many centuries, each left to their own tasks. The Architect had led many lives in that period.

It gave Elidibus pause, feeling for the aether. It was so distinctly Emet-Selch but held none of its previous vigorous energy. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously beneath that red mask of his before phasing into the room.

It was hardly the first time Elidibus had shown up while the Architect was in bed with another. Only he could see him, anyway. But this was different.

He had taken on the look of a young Midlander male with long, curly brown hair this time. He was bottoming but he had put no effort into it. He weakly jerked with each thrust of the muscular, raggedy Hyur topping him. He seemed like a glorified toy with how little he put forth.

Elidibus stepped back suddenly.

Pale gold eyes were staring at him. The same gold he took on in every life. In every form he took, it was the one reminder of the true Hades.

They hurt to look at.

It was the same gold but were so lifeless. They had grown as dull as the very soul of their owner. He was in pain from his expression, but his eyes held no emotion.

No, there was one thing there.

A yearning for _something_.

Elidibus had broken their shared gaze first and turned and left in an instant.

* * *

The next time he met this vessel would be the last time. He watched from a distance, fully aware the other Convocation member could sense him. He narrowed his eyes, watching the brunette take a dark vial of a thick liquid and place it on his lips. He took it one swig to down it and threw it onto the ground in frustration. The man looked on the verge of crying before throwing himself backward off the rock he sat on with arms spread wide. He drew one last breath as he took the plunge into the lake below.

Surely it was just another failure in raising an empire, but the Emissary could not shake the feeling the scene gave him.

* * *

This seemed to repeat for years. And every time he seemed just out of reach. Elidibus could easily teleport and save the man’s life in every instance, but there was no point.

He wasn’t quite sure what was different this time.

He couldn’t stop himself from reaching out over the cliff as he – an Elezen with short white locks– plummeted. Elidibus froze as he watched him fall.

His eyes – and his soul – were as mangled and dull as one of the Sundered, as they had been for many lifetimes now.

He had started dying younger and younger, giving up and starting anew. Just how many vessels had the Architect thrown away before Elidibus finally encountered him again?

That look on his face.

He was smirking but what Elidibus could feel of his soul was screaming out for help.

* * *

His lives began to mesh together in the Emissary’s head. Each time he accounted for the death of a vessel, he began searching for his aether all over the Source. Elidibus had caught onto two things: He was quick to hop, as if the bodies were mere distractions from his problems, and that he always stayed on the Source, straying far away from the reflections. Perhaps the Architect stayed where he tried feeling for the most familiarity of their people, but another part of the Emissary thought that the opposite.

On the Source, they felt so close to success but so far away. Thousands and thousands of years of work and suffering. A constant reminder of their victories and their failures.

He stared down the icy street, wearing his usual frown. He caught glimpse of a bundled traveler looking to find an inn. His aether felt worse than the last life they had met in and it pained the Emissary to observe it. He gathered his will and grabbed at the figure’s hand.

He had stopped, unmoving.

“What...?” came the low, irresolute voice.

Elidibus jerked him towards him and his brown hood came off as he was forced to stare at the Emissary.

An Elezen once more. He had long white hair that reached down his back in a long braid while the rest nearly covered his eyes and fell over his ears. He was rather short and had a soft face for an Elezen, but had the same exhausted, barren gold eyes. Always pale golden eyes, Emet-Selch.

Elidibus teleported away, with him in tow, without another word.

* * *

“Care to avoid my questions further?” Hades let out. Elidibus could feel his aether churn unnaturally so, but the Architect could still summon a way out or a means to fight back if he wished. But that never came.

The Emissary had brought them to an empty stage, a piano before the void. He took a seat on the bench and slowly lifted the light painted wood covering the keys before sliding down the bench. Hades managed a forced sigh and walked over as if to humor his fellow. He stared at the Emissary’s gloved fingers as they glided across the piano keys before settling and tapping, drawing small noises from the instrument.

* * *

Elidibus never met him again that lifetime. The next time he found him, Hades had already been many years deep into this life. He had grown more insecure with his aether and subsequently drew it back even further.

Before, it had been an unconscious effort to avoid the Emissary, but now he was actively dodging him.

Elidibus did not understand his efforts in this current life when he found him. He had drifted rather quickly into the habits he took up many lives ago, but it had worsened considerably. He lived as a cheap whore, getting with anyone he could manage, and it wasn’t difficult with looks like his this time. He was a thin Midlander once more, complete with dark burgundy hair that was braided as he kept it in his previous life. Zodiark, this man valued consistency. Long bangs, parted in the middle, hugged and curled around the sides of his face. And, his face itself was so distinctly...

Hades.

Elidibus could not help but feel dread when he saw him _smirking_ as he led a group of men up the staircase of the inn he found him in.

* * *

Elidibus decided to take on a mortal disguise this time. He wore a loose coat under trailing white hair framing light purple eyes. Simple for what he needed the body for.

He followed behind the Midlander, avoiding making his presence known, and quirked a brow as he headed down the staircase to the closed inn front from his room and approached the grand piano tucked in the corner. He stumbled over to it and took a set on the bench, lifting the cover to stare at the keys.

Elidibus held a bated breath and walked over. He paused when the Hyur’s face drifted up and stared dead-eyed into him. He merely looked back to the piano keys, hands timidly resting over them. The Emissary sighed and walked over to take a seat next to him.

“Are you familiar with the piano?” he ventured.

The Hyur was quiet and, if Elidibus didn’t know better, seemed like he hadn’t even heard the question.

“Not really,” finally came the answer. “It simply reminds me of a friend.”

Elidibus’s aether stirred at the comment. It took him a moment to finally reach forward and also lay his hands over the keys.

“Do you care to learn?”

The Hyur merely shrugged but made no motion to stand as the Emissary began to quietly tap at the keys.

He would regret not starting sooner, only meeting with Emet-Selch a few more times in this life, each at the keys of a piano.

* * *

The Emissary began attempting to teach him in each new life, each in a new form. Emet-Selch seemed so distant, far worse than he had been prior to becoming Emet-Selch. He was so impersonal, merely going with Elidibus each time until he decided to show up more often.

The glow was never restored in his eyes and his aether never stirred with life, but the Architect had eventually began playing alongside him. It still broke a part of the Emissary when the Architect decided to end his life each time despite his efforts. Elidibus had sought this to be a distraction, but Emet-Selch never improved. Each time, Elidibus would find him in bed with another nobody, some mortal using and abusing him.

A piece of living flesh to dump cum into.

That’s how Lahabrea would likely phrase it, anyway.

* * *

He couldn’t help but watch from a distance whenever he stumbled upon him sleeping with another mortal. He didn’t stop himself from grinding his teeth as he watched the Roegadyn bottom out in the Architect. If it wasn’t for the subtle rising and lowering of his chest, the Architect could possibly be mistaken for a corpse. He watched his dead eyes stare past the Roe and to the wood ceiling. His body merely moved with the Roe's rough movements, giving no aid in his climax. He was no more than a sex toy, to be used and discarded as many of his vessels had been.

Any longing Elidibus once thought was there was gone.

His aether, what he could feel of it that is, twisted around itself as if the flame would die out. At times, he felt weaker than the mortal grabbing at his soft chest. It was becoming more and more difficult to seek him out each life. His once distinct color and even his bond to Zodiark was fading. Elidibus was losing his grasp on him just as the Architect was losing his on life.

* * *

And each, and every single time, Elidibus would sit down with him and teach him the piano.

He prayed someday those quiet notes would reawaken the Hades he once knew despite how far he had drifted away from him.

Not for some grand goal, not the Rejoining, not for their god.

He wanted the once beautiful color of his violet soul, the life in his eyes, to return.

He desperately wanted Hades back.


End file.
